Tim's Vermeer

As a lifelong draw-er, painter and former professional visual artist, I have absolutely no problem with the idea that Vermeer used optical tools to create his masterpieces. Invention is creation every bit as much as art (maybe more). It does not diminish Vemeer's "genius" to think of him as more 'tinkerer' than virtuoso, it just redirects it a bit. I have to admit that before watching this film I had not given much thought to the tools that Vemeer may have used, other than assuming that camera obscura was employed at some point. After considering the level of detail involved, and the lighting intricacies that he so aptly caught, it seems entirely reasonable (but not proved) to believe that other assists were involved as well.

The one thing the film overlooks, and the reason I didn't give it 10 stars, was that Vemeer no doubt possessed tremendous drawing ability and training in other traditional skills which Tim did not. Such skills would have enabled him to bridge the gap between human camera and inexplicable genius. For example, he would have inherently caught things like broken perspective early on, and he would have wielded his tools with emotion and insight which Tim did not possess. He was, at heart, a true artist, and much more than just an eccentric millionaire with an odd hobby. So the answer to which tools he used, as interesting as it is to think about, is really little more than a bit of trivia. Because it doesn't matter if it's optics or inspiration, mechanics or expression, in the end if it's interesting to look at if it moves people, then it's great art.

I'm not blessed with a natural sense of curiosity, so the question of how Dutch Master, Johannes Vermeer, painted his extraordinary masterpieces has never kept me up at night. Tim's Vermeer made me realize I should be kept up at night by the mysteries of the past. I love this movie. I love that I paid close attention through it all. I love Tim Jenison's biting humor. I love the mystery surrounding his theory. I love that even back then, there were people doing things behind the scenes to make the ordinary extraordinary. And I love that we will never know if it's true.

Let me bring in my friend Heidi Sullivan to explain the meat and potatoes. Heidi and I made our yearly trek this year to the Hamptons together for the Hamptons Film Festival. She is an award-winning documentarian, and much, much, much smarter than I am. She also picks the movies we see because she is a deep-sea diver who spends time diving into things, while I am a water skier, flying over things on the surface level. We all have our strengths and weaknesses. Anyway, in the interest of making sure you get the whole thing, I asked her to write the paragraph explaining Tim's theory on Vermeer's painting process. Here is it. After you read it, you will be glad I asked her. She is nothing if not articulate when it comes to complex issues. She went to Harvard. Just sayin'.

"Unlike those of his contemporaries, none of Vermeer's sketchbooks have ever been found, nor have X-rays of Vermeer paintings revealed any pencil marks underneath the paint, Intrigued by this fact, Jenison reasoned that Vermeer must have used a camera obscura, the 17th-century equivalent of a camera, to obtain his hyper-realist look (as the film points out, camera obscura literally means darkroom). To test out his theory, and limiting himself to objects and pigments that would have existed in Vermeer's day, Jenison positioned a mirror on a stick, placing the mirror at an angle to reflect the image to be painted onto his tablet. To match the color of the reflected image exactly, Jenison continually kept his eye on the edge of the mirror. Looking between the mirror and the reflected image he was painting, if the color he was using was too dark or too light, the edge of the mirror was visible to his eye. But once he mixed his colors to match exactly, the edge of the mirror seemed to disappear – his eye and the mirror functioning as a sort of photo-sensor. It was an incredibly painstaking paint-by-numbers process, but one that yielded uncanny results." Amazing right? But more amazing is Tim's exploration of this question. His journey to see if he could replicate is told with honesty, humor, and intelligence. Perhaps best of all, it approaches an extremely difficult topic with a sense of comic perspective. No one is curing cancer. He was responding to his own internal boredom with a project he admits he would have abandoned had not the cameras been rolling. There were 2,500 hours of film to edit. A feat in itself.

There is a moment on film that I couldn't leave behind. Tim's daughter spends her week home from college posing for the painting. She has to be perfectly still. A contraption is strapped to her head that makes it look like she has just broken her neck and is in traction. She has a Diet Coke on the table, and the moment when she reaches for it and takes a drink is priceless. Coke should use it in a commercial. And, Tim's comment that she couldn't wait to return to school was priceless.

I have to mention Penn Jillette, who was the 'Director' of this movie. But he really wasn't. He was the famous person whose backing allowed it to be made. Or so it seemed. I'm not a fan anyway, so having him associated with the film would have been a reason not to go, rather than a reason to pay attention.

I like stick-to-itiveness in a person. I do. I can't wait to see a Vermeer and at the Met the next time I am in New York City. I like to be smarter than I was a few hours ago. I like to know things. For those reasons alone, go see the Tim's Vermeer. Become smarter. Ask yourself if Vermeer could secretly have been a paint-by-numbers kind of guy, hiding it because he knew it was a form of cheating? If the answer is yes, what else is possible?

What exactly is the relationship between science and art? Are they entirely separate domains or is there, Venn-diagram-like, some overlap between them?

The 17th Century Dutch painter Johannes Vermeer has long been considered the world's master of the "photographic" painting. So lifelike, in fact, are Vermeer's works that it has long been speculated that he may have used some kind of scientific device available at the time to help him achieve the effect. Well, filmmaker Penn Jillette, with the help of Tim Jenson - an inventor, NOT a painter - has decided to get to the bottom of the controversy. The result is "Tim's Vermeer," a brief (76 minutes), fast-paced and utterly absorbing documentary that provides an aesthetic and intellectual feast for art and science lovers alike.

Since this IS Penn Jillette we're talking about here - an illusionist who is also a tireless advocate for rationalism and empiricism - it's fitting that the movie would apply scientific precepts to its analysis of art. Tim hypothesizes that Vermeer may have used a device called a camera obscura combined with a small portable mirror to achieve an unprecedented verisimilitude in his paintings. It's pure speculation, since Vermeer left no notes behind documenting his creative and technical process. So Tim has decided to paint his own "Vermeer" using the technique he postulates the artist himself used, and to document that process on film.

To that end, Tim has chosen Vermeer's "The Music Lesson" as his subject to copy, going so far as to recreate the room, along with the people and objects contained therein, of the original painting down to the smallest detail, only utilizing (and even crafting, if necessary) lenses, mirrors, lighting and paints that were in existence in the 1600s. It is a project that would take five full years to complete.

If Vermeer did indeed use these optic "tricks" to achieve his effect, does that somehow diminish him as an artist? Does it make his skill as a painter less astonishing, even if it heightens his ingenuity as an inventor and problem-solver? Probably no more so than a second-rate painter being able to replicate (i.e., "forge") any art masterpiece diminishes the talent of the original artist. And why would it be considered "cheating" for an artist to incorporate all the technological devices available to him at the time to help him in his painting? Why must there exist an arbitrary and artificial dividing line between science and art? These are the questions that Teller's fascinating little movie brings to the fore.

But isn't it better just to keep it all as a mystery, to declare Vermeer an artistic genius of the first rank and leave it at that? Perhaps, but then we wouldn't have "Tim's Vermeer" to inspire and engage us.

Watching this film is a virtual art course in itself. Tim Jenison takes us on a search for the secrets of Dutch artist Vermeer's tremendous use of light in his art work. He researches early applications of the so called camera obscura and the use of lenses. He comes up with a possible theory of how Vermeer painted and then gets to work confirming his theory. His first test is a simple mirror reflecting an object onto a canvas. He experiments with this and confirms his thesis. He then decides to apply his model to recreating one of Vermeer's masterpieces. The outcome is sensational. The movie shows all the various constructional aspects, which as an engineer I really love. I kept wanting to get up out of my seat and start building a similar model. The detail which he went to in order to recreate the scene of the painting was astounding.

If you, like me, enjoy technology and creativity. This is a must see Documentary about a man who set off to make a 'Vermeer'. With no particular skills, but with time and money to spend, he reinvented and discovered the Artist's way. For me the 'revealing' of Vermeer was far from a disappointment. Instead for me it brings Vermeer straight into the age of Enlightenment.

Art, at it's best for me is always a combination of smart and ingenious, it has to do with craftsmanship, with guts and persistence and a bit of Eureka. During the Age of Enlightenment in the Netherlands of the 17th Century, the two disciplines - Science and Art - just had to meet. As Jenison points out in the Documentary, this is exactly what happened here. But maybe there is even more..

Born in 1632, Vermeer shares the same birth year with another famous man called Baruch Spinoza. Spinoza worked in The Hague, a city that is only a stone throw away from Delft, which being the city where Johannes Vermeer lived, worked and died.

As Tim Jenison so brilliantly shows, lenses and mirrors play an important role in the work of Vermeer. Not only on his paintings, but also in the way he produced these paintings.

Wouldn't it be a great thought that Baruch Spinoza, who worked as a lens maker for a living, contributed as such to the paintings of Johannes Vermeer. Maybe they even talked about light, perspective and geometry during the tedious grinding of the lens. And that picture just made my day :-)